The Centennial Quell
by stephwritesstuff
Summary: It is 25 years after the revolution began, after The Girl on Fire sparked the changes that had forever altered Panem. Avarice Snow, President Snow's great-grand daughter, will have to face the 100th and final Hunger Games, the Centennial Quell, after a surprise reaping.
1. Chapter 1

Avarice liked to believe that every new Games began at the sound of a cannon. She pictured the tributes, all standing on their pedestals, proudly awaiting the end of the countdown. "3… 2… 1…" The cannon boomed, and Avarice could imagine the tributes running forward, could feel the pounding hearts and adrenaline kicking in…

"Avarice!" An angry shriek startled the young girl out of her daydream. "Focus, darling!" Ms. Frostweather, Avarice's teacher, gave her a disappointed stare. "Now, who were the two victors that began the revolution?"

"Katniss and Peeta." Avarice stared blankly ahead, letting the answer she knew by heart fall out of her mouth in a droll, monotone voice.

"_Councilmen _Katniss and Peeta. Now, how did they win the games, and how has their success affected our current generation?"

"I have no clue. Maybe if we got to watch some of The Games, we'd understand better. Who knows Ms. Frostweather, maybe The Games never happened and we're all just being brainwashed into thinking-"

"THAT IS ENOUGH, AVARICE." Ms. Frostweather screeched. One of Avarice's classmates' whimpered. "To the principal. Now."

Avarice rolled her eyes, got out of her seat, and walked the long hallway down to the principal's office. She was used to this walk. Hardly a week could go by without another outburst. She couldn't help herself. All this talk about The Games, and Katniss, and Perfect Peeta, but they never got to see anything? Never got to fully understand what the districts were? Never got to see the poverty they had been told of? It was ludicrous, absolutely unthinkable.

The principal's door was tall and wide, an imposing oak piece, but Avarice pushed it open with little effort. She was built strong for her age, fifteen, and she was extremely athletic. No better way to get out anger than aggressive sports.

"Avarice, again?" The principal looked up from her desk, where she had been typing something on a large glass screen.

"Mom, I can't help it. It's so boring."

"Honey, you can't keep doing things to poor Ms. Frostweather. It's not her fault, she doesn't make the curriculum."

Avarice sat down in the oversized chair in front of her mother's desk. "Then who does?"

"You know, the Council of Presidents. We've been over this a thousand times."

"Why won't they let us see The Games?"

The principal's eyes widened, and then narrowed. Her face became almost sad; like she had just remembered something she had lost. "You do not want to see that footage."

Avarice leaned forward and tapped her fingers on the mahogany desk. "All we talk about is how bad the old leaders were, Coin, and Snow." The Principal's face grew pale. "I know he was my great grandfather. He couldn't have been that bad, mom."

"He was. He was a bad man. He didn't realize it, but he was." Principal Snow put her head in her hands. "Please, sweetheart, please behave. You know how hard I had to work to get this job. You know that with our last name it is extremely difficult to find work. If you get in trouble any more…"

"I know mom, I'm sorry." Avarice rose from the chair and headed towards the door.

"Avarice Ellington Snow, just remember to behave. Please." She paused. "And know I love you."

"Love you, too." Avarice walked out, shutting the heavy door behind her. She balled her hands into fists. Behaving in class was getting to be impossible.


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn broke with the sounds of fireworks. Avarice woke up startled and ran to her mother's room. "What's going on?"

Ms. Snow was sitting silently in bed, reading through a newspaper. She placed down the thin plastic tablet and looked up at her daughter. "It's the 100th anniversary of The Reapings."

"So they're _celebrating_?" Avarice sat down beside her mother. She glanced out the window to the city street below her. Drunken adults were stumbling down the streets cheering.

"It's in honor of the revolution. This date no longer represents fear. It represents change." They sat silently for a few minutes, Ms. Snow occasionally tapping the screen to flip the page. "Would you like to watch the news? I hear there will be an announcement at 6:30."

Avarice nodded. "I suppose."

Ms. Snow flicked her hand forward, and a small projector produced an image onto the blank wall in front of them. Patriotic music blared as the flag of New Panem waved proudly in the wind. Trumpets blared and the scene faded into The Council walking into a room of ten chairs aligned in rows of 5. The Everdeens, an older man Avarice did not recognize, and two other younger Council members took the first row. The older man stood up to speak. He walked with a slight limp, and Avarice figured he was drunk.

He cleared his throat. "Some of you know me as Haymitch, the winner of the Second Quarter Quell. Many of you know me as an instigator of the war against Snow." Avarice scowled. "All of you know _us_," He gestured behind him, " as the Council that runs our reformed country, New Panem. We have come to a decision for this final, Centennial Quell, one that may upset some of you." He took a deep breath, but broke into coughs. He tried to begin talking again, but he coughed more. Avarice laughed. Haymitch returned to his seat and a younger man took his spot.

The screen identified the man as Mr. Brattle. Avarice remembered he was a new Councilman; he had taken office several weeks ago after an older one had died. There had been a huge funeral for him, and people had placed copper wire along his grave. "Our announcement is final, there will be no changes, no vetoes. We will be having one last Hunger Games. The only people competing will be descendants of past leaders and past Capitol citizens. Thank you." The screen shut off. Avarice's mother gasped. Her face was pale.

"What? Mom, what's wrong?" Avarice was confused and scared, although she wasn't sure why.

"Avarice, you're going to be in the Reaping. You might be in The Hunger Games." She left the room, sniffling gently. Avarice assumed she was going to the bathroom to cry.

* * *

Alone with her thoughts, she compiled a list of questions she could not answer.

1. When would The Reaping be?

2. Who would be reaped?

3. Could I kill someone?

Ms. Snow reentered the room after a brief few minutes. Her eyes were puffy, but other than that, she showed no signs of having cried. She held up her plastic tablet and began searching.

"What are you looking for?" Avarice said, her green eyes scanning the page.

"Information. It says here The Reaping will be this afternoon."

"Do we have to go somewhere?"

"It says they will collect you if you're chosen."

"What if you run away and hide?"

Avarice's mother looked at her daughter stoically. "You can't."


	3. Chapter 3

The Reaping began at 5:00 pm sharp. Avarice turned on the television. Her mother was in the kitchen, preparing a cup of tea. Avarice figured she was probably too afraid to hear the names called.

One of the younger Councilmen began drawing names out of a fishbowl. His voice reverberated throughout the room. "Henrietta Lotus." Avarice jumped. It was one of her classmates. The town she lived in was full of Capitol people; all searching for jobs in a country that was trying to forget Districts ever existed. They had formed a small community where they could all live without persecution, avoiding the public beatings that seemed to be the fate of many of their Capitol friends and relatives.

More names were called out and Avarice recognized half of them. They were not done ladies first, but all at once, as if they held no concern for who was being chosen. Avarice listened as the names of the boy who teased her in English class, the track star, and one of the prettiest in her school were called out by the monotone Councilmen.

"Avarice Snow." He said, and Avarice froze. _Am I going crazy? _She thought to herself. The rest of the names were a blur, her head was spinning. Avarice stumbled downstairs to her mother, and Ms. Snow must have known what was happening because she dropped her cup of tea and it shattered to the ground, but she didn't seem to notice. Avarice crumbled to the floor.

"Am I going to die?" She said, to no one in particular, almost to herself.

Ms. Snow knelt down beside her and pulled her into a hug. They sat like that for a while, alone on the kitchen floor. Avarice did not cry, but grew angry. She wondered why she was reaped when she wasn't allowed to see any past Hunger Games. She wondered what would happen to her mother. She grew madder at the government that created this mess of a world she was stuck living in, and she knew she wouldn't let herself die for nothing. Avarice did not melt into her mother's arms. She straightened her back, flattened her unruly hair, and narrowed her eyes. She was going to win.


	4. Chapter 4

There were a few differences between what Avarice knew of the previous games and of this Centennial Quell:

1. There were no districts, so there would be no teams

2. There would be no chariot ceremony

3. The victors would be given 3 days worth of survival lessons and that was it, they were to be sent into the arena

Avarice leaned back and glanced out the window. There was nothing new, just never ending marsh broken up by the occasional office building. Avarice sighed. She was bored and alone. The car was set to drive automatically to the training center, some 2 hours away.

The rules of the Games stated that tribute's families were not allowed to go with them, so Avarice had had to say goodbye to her mother. It had been an emotional and traumatizing moment. Her mother had hugged her amidst falling tears and broken sobs, while Avarice had stayed mainly silent. _Why should she be sad_? Avarice knew she wasn't going to die; she was too strong, too angry. She would win this, and then wreck havoc on the society that put her through it.

The car pulled to a stop in front of a decrepit building that looked to be about 20 years outdated. Avarice figured it had been used for the previous games, but was unceremoniously abandoned after the fall of the Capitol. Despite obvious wear it was still an imposing structure: tall marble arches in front of an 8 story high gold and gray building. The walls climbed up uniformly with wide glass windows spread out equally amongst the floors. Avarice decided it felt like a prison. A young man opened the lofty oak door that rested between a centered archway. He walked towards the car and opened Avarice's door.

"Are you ready?" He said, extending a white-gloved hand towards Avarice. The sun was directly above, and Avarice had trouble adjusting her eyes at first to the harsh light. She looked up at him, and through squinted eyes she made out coarse waves of brown hair and a chiseled jaw along his tanned olive skin. She decided he was the most handsome man she had ever met. Now blushing, she took his hand and stepped out of the car, which then closed its' own door and drove off to the back of the building. "My name is Rooney. Rooney Cornwallis. Nice to meet you," He paused to look down at a card of paper "Miss, Snow." Avarice noticed a hint of disgust, which Rooney quickly replaced with a smile. "I'll be almost like your Mentor for these games. I do not know much about what will happen, but I will try to get you the best food, sleeping quarters, and training I can so you are prepared out there." Rooney and Avarice walked through the heavy doors, which Rooney pushed and bolted shut. "You are the final guest to arrive here. Most of the other guests arrived last night."

Avarice's car had arrived in the morning instead of the previous afternoon, some sort of technical error in the car system. _Already a step behind everyone else_. Avarice knew that in that time, some might have already made alliances. They walked in silence, footsteps echoing down the long empty hallway. The walls were a deep navy, decorated solely by ten portraits of the Council members. At the end of the hall, Rooney adjusted his gray suit and pulled open the door to his left.

Inside was a grand dining room. There were about 20 tables, all surrounded by six chairs and covered in fancy dining arrangements. At the back of the hall was a long buffet counter, filled with more foods than Avarice could name. She stood at the front of the room, her eyes wide.

"Avarice, you may sit wherever you want. I have to eat in the Assistors Hall, but I will be back to retrieve you at 2 p.m. sharp." Rooney looked around. Most of the tables were half full of kids all sitting silently as they picked at the food on their plates. "I am no expert, but I suggest you find a group. It appears most have already decided upon where their alliances lie." Rooney bowed to Avarice and left the room. Avarice looked at the groups and decided to sit at the table with the girl Henrietta she knew from school.

"Avarice." Henrietta said. She looked nervously to the two kids beside her who stared coolly into Avarice's dark brown eyes. "This is Lotus," She pointed to the large black girl beside her, " and this is Lexus." She pointed to the slender black boy at her left. "They're the Magellan twins."

"Hello." Avarice said with a slight smile.

Lotus spit at her feet.

Avarice let out a cry of disgust and backed up. "What the Hell?"

"You're Avarice Snow. My brother and I will not associate with anyone of the Snow family."

"Well why not?" Avarice shouted indignantly. The rest of the room was looking at them now.

Lexus leaned back in his chair. "President Snow is the reason our family is in such deep poverty now."

"He did nothing wrong!"

"He let the Capitol flourish, and that's the only reason we're stuck here now." Lexus said.

Avarice looked towards Henrietta, who was shaking slightly. "You're not going to say anything?" Henrietta stayed mute. "We've been friends since we were seven!"

"I… I'm sorry… I…" Henrietta stammered.

Avarice sighed. Her large eyes narrowed. "Say no more. I can sit by myself." Avarice turned on her heel towards the buffet table, where she piled her plate with as much food as possible, acutely aware of all the people staring at her. She sat down alone at a table in the dead center of the room. _If people are going to stare, let them. _Avarice ate calmly and then glanced at her gold watch. It was a hand-me-down from generations of the Snow Family, a final remnant of their affluence. Avarice's mother had given it to her before she left.

The time read 1:55. Avarice finished her last forkful of mashed potatoes and stood up, gently brushing crumbs off her lap. She walked towards the door, and met Rooney as soon as he entered the room.

"Have you finished your—"

"Let's go." Avarice shuffled Rooney out of the room. She couldn't stand to be in there any longer. It was just another reminder that she was an outcast, a loner, even amongst people with her same past. Avarice would just have to win the games on her own.


End file.
